All Around Me
by Charmante
Summary: It was a small kiss, just a peck, but the message was simple enough. “You shouldn’t kiss me like this, Hermione.” Rating is for future reference. Please review. It's very important to me to know what you think about my writing.
1. Kiss Me at Midnight

Winter break had arrived after what had seemed like a matter of only a few weeks to her. As quickly as her classes flew by, the time that she spent in the common room seemed to drag on and on due mainly to the company that she was forced to keep whilst in the midst. Hermione Granger was Head Girl at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in her seventh and final year. When she had first learned of her new position, she had been overjoyed and bubbling with excitement. At least until she had waited in the Head's compartment on the Hogwarts Express to meet her male accompaniment. The one person that Hermione disliked more than anyone that she could remember throughout her life, Draco Malfoy, had been selected to fill the post of Head Boy. She figured that it may not be as bad as she thought, since they'd only be sharing the same duties and classes as they had done when they were both Prefects.

She was wrong. Professor McGonagall had given them both a short briefing before the Prefects arrived, informing them that they are to be civil to one another at all times in public, but what they did in private was their own business. The two Heads were both confused about this until the Head Mistress informed them both of the location of their shared common room.

Since that day, endless quarreling had become second nature to Hermione, and she had even learned to become less angry as Draco insulted her with his bitter remarks. The small fact that she was beginning to get used to it seemed to bother him the most, so she allowed herself to appear completely unaffected by each witty comment that he made. She enjoyed angering him and made it a point to do so each day since the school year had started.

However, Hermione had grown quite accustomed to Draco reappearing each night at either seven thirty or nine thirty, depending upon his Quidditch practice, and beginning the nightly contest of who could throw their insults harder against the other. It was the first night of winter break, which she had decided to remain at the school throughout, when Draco did not arrive at the dorm at his usual time.

'_Peace and quiet,'_ she thought, as she changed from her regular clothing into a pair of fleece sweatpants and a tank top, accompanied by a thick pair of slippers. She took leave of her bedroom and sat down in an overstuffed armchair in front of the fireplace, curling up with a book and her old cat Crookshanks. _'He must've gone home for the holidays.'_

No sooner than she had finished the thought, the door into the Heads common room swung open and in he marched, staring at Hermione as if he were stalking his prey.

"Bloody wonderful," he said, throwing his cloak across the length of the sofa and falling heavily onto it. He looked up to her and continued staring. "My father is going to get quite the earful from me."

Hermione pulled her eyes from the text littered pages and glanced up to meet his enraged stare. When she said nothing, he seemed to think that she wanted him to elaborate.

"He went on holiday with my mother to Paris for the break and decided it would be a splendid idea for me to remain here!" he finally said, throwing his arms out to the side in frustration.

Hermione stared at him still, eyebrows raised at the audacity that Draco had to feel the need to whine about something so insignificant to his perfect life.

"Now I'm stuck here with you," he added, voice slightly disgusted as he eyed her comfortable attire.

"The feeling is mutual, ferret," she said, closing her book and placing it on her stomach. This was his signal that it was alright to continue insulting her. In all honestly, she really didn't mind it anymore.

"It wouldn't be nearly as bad if you were at least a half blood. Then I might've even been able to pretend that I could enjoy your company," he replied.

She rolled her eyes at the comment on her blood status. He always started with something along those lines, and she was beginning to be able to predict his words on a daily basis. "If you were even slightly decent in appearance, I may even be able to deal with you. Well, with the help of a silencing charm," Hermione countered, and small smirk flashing in his direction when she finished.

He stared at her for a moment, contemplating his next words carefully. The night's witty banter would be short, he could see, as he had cracked a smile already. He was flustered because of his parents and the normalcy of insulting Hermione seemed to calm him down sufficiently enough. "Touché, Granger. I could say the same for you."

"But I already beat you to the looks insult, so your game is off. I know you were planning that next," she said, running her hands through Crookshanks' long fur.

Draco watched her hand moving for a moment after nodding in response. He now seemed content, even in her presence. He was comfortable around her now, and it almost unnerved them both. They were past all of their old formalities and beyond the point of blindly calling each other by crude named. Draco and Hermione had formed their own special relationship throughout the last term of school and whether or not the other noticed, both seemed to enjoy it.

"Did you consider the possibility that your father actually wishes the worst for you and did this with all intentions of making you realize his hatred?" she asked, jest clearly evident in her words. Lucius could never hate his perfect son. After all, Draco was Head Boy and Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team.

He only shot a smirk her way and shook his head. She wondered what exactly was going through his mind. It almost worried her that there was really no retort from him at all. Usually in any matter that concerned his father, all that Draco would do was whine and moan until someone had detention with Mr. Filch.

"How could he possibly hate someone as perfect as myself?" he replied after a long moment of silence, a grin slowly crossing his lips. He allowed his eyes to land on hers and awaited her response.

"I'd gladly give him a few pointers. After all, Harry, Ron and myself have done such a good job over these past six years," Hermione said, doing her best to suppress the smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. Even if two of her best friends did hate him, she wasn't so sure that she did. She'd learned over the past couple of months that even those who are seemingly impossible to tolerate were actually somewhat decent companions in small enough doses.

"Only six? Has it really only been six years since you've all started disliking me?"

"Well, for Harry and myself, yes. Ron has hated you for as long as he can remember."

"Only three days? Really?" he asked.

"Ron can remember more than three days ago. At least I think," she answered, her smile slowly succeeding as she looked away from him and back towards the fire.

"Six and a half, you mean."

Hermione looked back, raising an eyebrow in question.

"You and Potter. You've hated me for six and a half years, not six."

Hermione thought for a moment about whether or not she should correct him. She was unsure if it would be a wise decision to announce that she no longer felt those feelings for him. "Six years, three months, three weeks and two days to be more precise," she said, turning her eyes back to the fire. She couldn't help but notice that he looked a bit less crude and angry in the warm glow of fire. He almost seemed as if he were a kind-hearted soul that should be constantly surrounded by singing birds and small forest animals. She almost laughed at the thought.

"Touché, again," he replied, allowing his eyes once again to drift back to her. Hermione seemed at peace there, comfortable in what he could only assume were her pajamas on the gushy armchair, book in her lap, legs dangling over the armrest. The fire appeared to be keeping her occupied and unaware of his wandering eyes. So, for a short moment, he allowed himself to properly inspect her, which he hadn't done since he had first met her. She seemed taller than Draco remembered, probably since it had been six years since he had last looked her over. Her hair was messy, but considerably tamer than it used to be, and her eyes were a few shades darker than he had thought they were. Her lips were perfect, he thought, full and not too big or too small. He liked them, and with that thought, he subconsciously licked his lips. Her shoulders were pusher forward in response to the curvature of the chair that she took refuge upon. But even with the obstruction of her arms, Draco had no problem noticing her breasts. His eyes widened a bit and he almost had to cover his mouth to keep himself from spouting something stupid like 'When did those get there?' After a few more seconds of ogling, he forced his eyes to continue along their path. Her stomach was flat, he knew, but whether or not there was any muscle to her abdomen, he couldn't tell through the fabric that covered her. Her backside pleased him too. He apparently never noticed that in six years, either. Her legs were long and they appeared to be well toned and in good shape. Again, it was hard to tell through her clothing.

"Quit staring. If it could be anymore obvious that you wanted me, you'd be on top of me right now," Hermione said suddenly, shocking Draco and forcing him to peel his eyes from her form and look back to her face. He felt color flush into his cheeks at her words and quickly looked away from her, outwardly ignoring her comment. Did he want her? Really? The more he thought about it, the more it began to seem like an understatement.

She smirked. Her ability to force him into speechlessness still made her slightly giddy at times, but she couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking. She knew that if he kept up the silence, she'd just think about the insinuation more and more. Why did she even say that? It just kind of came out, she told herself. Or did it? Maybe she wanted him. Maybe she was just suggesting her own feelings. But maybe she wasn't. Maybe the thought of him on top of her only made her feel warm inside because it was something she knew she'd never get, but if she did, she'd be proving the entire school wrong. No one liked to prove people wrong more than Hermione Granger.

"Well," Draco started, choosing his words carefully. "Well, maybe you're right," he finally said, letting his eyes linger for a few seconds on the wall in front of him before they slipped back to her.

She was already staring at him, a wild hunger burning behind her dark eyes. She didn't say anything for a few minutes, but rather kept her mouth shut by biting the inside of her lower lip. "Maybe I am," she replied quietly, shifting her weight and seating herself correctly in the overstuffed chair. She felt slightly uncomfortable, but at the same time, she could feel her insides burning for him.

"Maybe," he said in a barely audible voice. "Just maybe," he added, moving slowly to get up from his relaxed position and walk toward her. He placed one knee on either side of her legs and leaned forward, one hand holding himself up against the back of the chair and the other cautiously weaving its way through her hair. He could feel her shaking beneath him as he inched closer and closer to her, silver eyes watching soft chocolate ones as they darted to his lips.

There was only an inch of space separating them as Hermione felt her heart rate increase dramatically. What was going on here? How could she be doing such a thing? Then again, how could she not? It was Christmas break and she'd have a few weeks to live it down. Although, how easy he'd make it, she didn't know. The feeling of his thumb rubbing lightly against the bottom of her cheek brought her crashing back to reality as she realized there was on only half an inch of space remaining that kept they two of them apart.

What he was doing, Draco didn't really care. All that he could see in front of him was Hermione. All that he wanted at that moment was her. No matter how much be tried to deny it to himself, he couldn't. The small space grew smaller, reaching about a quarter of an inch. It seemed like he could cut the tension in the air between the two of them with a dull blade. He could feel her breath on his skin and he knew that there was no point in trying to pull away.

Hermione allowed her heavy eyelids to fall so that all she could see any longer were his lips closing in on hers. She almost felt as if she would look to anyone else as if she were being taken advantage of, and quickly moved her hands, placing on his waist and lightly gripping the white button down shirt, and the other gently along the nape of his neck. She could barely hear the clock in the courtyard chime as it struck midnight on the grounds.


	2. Temptation

The tender sensation of his lips lightly upon hers sent a chill down her spine. The fact that Draco Malfoy could be gentle at all shocked her. The kiss sent a mixture of emotions flowing through her very being, aside from the alarm. She felt petrified in her seat, but unusually content in his presence. A flock of butterflies let lose from deep inside of her, fluttering through her body and losing themselves in her stomach where they chose to remain, but refused to sit still. A nervous tick jumped through her leg as she opened her eyes once again, looking up to Draco as he slowly removed his lips from her.

The clock struck the twelfth chime as his silver eyes reached hers again. He had only pulled away because she hadn't responded to him. It irritated him more than anything he could remember. How could Hermione not at least give him some indication that she wanted to continue the tense moment? How could she deny him in such a way? He clicked his tongue to his teeth a few times and gradually leaned back towards her, resting his forehead against hers.

"I'm… I'm sorry," she said in a small voice as she stroked a small section of the skin on his neck with her index finger. She hadn't removed her hands, and this was probably the only reason he hadn't gotten up and walked off. "I just… I don't know what to do."

He raised an eyebrow and pulled himself back a few inches to get a better look at her. She was biting her lip and her gaze refused to land on him. "Never kissed a bloke before, have you?" he asked, his tone degrading, but kindhearted as well.

She raised her eyebrows, finally looking at him again. "You can't really believe that, ca—" Draco cut her off.

But not how their fellow students would imagine. Hermione took in a sharp inhale as Draco pressed his slightly parted lips against hers, begging her to let him in, pleading with her to give him some kind of reply.

Hermione flinched slightly in surprise and in the smallest attempt to pull away. He wasn't making it a very easy task for her to accomplish. He moved closer, shifting his weight back and forth on his knees and moving only inches at a time to get his body nearer to hers. With his height, he caused her to arch her back, since he was making it obvious that her lips were to remain captured by his.

He continued his attempts at getting her to kiss him, playfully biting her lower lip once or twice. She didn't seem to be going for anything that he had tried so far, so he decided it was in his best interest to give up and try again later. He had all of winter break after all.

Taking a deep breath, Draco allowed the right side of his mouth to curve into a smile against her lips. "You're so stubborn," he whispered.

The combination of his actions and his breath on his lips sent a spark through her veins and an anxious, unfulfilled longing deep inside of her burned. As he began to pull away, Hermione held her breath, pushed her hand into the blond hair that fell almost to his shoulders, grabbed hold and pulled him back down, nose to nose. "You give up much to easy," she replied, her voice below a whisper. Draco's eyes widened as he looked down at her lips while she spoke.

Before he could even think about what she was saying, she pulled him closer, using her grip on his hair to tilt his head to an angle more to her liking. Parting her lips just a fraction of an inch, she forced Draco down into the kiss.

He didn't fight her, seeing as this is what he had wanted from her in the first place. He welcomed the act happily, enjoying her grip on his hair a bit more than he thought he would. Draco let his hand slip, moving down the length of her neck and back down onto her shoulder, the base of his palm resting just under her collarbone. He bent his knees, lowering himself closer to her legs to avoid having her strain her neck to continue.

Hermione adjusted herself slightly, allowing for better leverage on her side. She pulled back just a bit to glance up at him. When their eyes met, he smirked, and she knew that there would be some witty comment coming, but she wouldn't be prepared. She only had one option to avoid embarrassment, and that was to keep it up.

And so she did. Draco felt himself stiffen slightly as her tongue traced along the edge of his bottom lip. He could feel the flame burning deep inside of him, the hunger growing stronger and stronger. It was all he could do to hold back from grabbing her, tossing her on the ground, ripping her clothing off and having his way with her. Although, what was stopping him? She certainly wouldn't be able to prevent it, but at this point he wasn't quite sure she'd want to. Of course, he would never know unless he tried.

How badly he wanted to just ravage her right there was beginning to drive him mad. Her subtle teasing was going to break him soon enough. Finally, he gave in to her hints and allowed her tongue entrance to his mouth. It was a new feeling to him, and to her. Gentle at first, scared and cautious, and then growing steadily more passionate and intense as the seconds passed. It was satisfying, yet infuriating to him. He wanted more. And he wanted it now.

Keeping her grip tight on in his hair, Hermione allowed her other hand to wander, finding her way blindly to his chest and absently toying with the buttons on his shirt. She wanted to explore him, all of him. His body intrigued her and her imagination went wild with that he would feel like tightly held against her. She fumbled with the button between her trembling fingers, eventually freeing it from the hold she had been fighting. Her hand continued moving down, slowly tackling each button as she went in a shaky attempt to continue the short pattern.

It took Draco only a few short seconds to realize what her intentions were, and he gladly decided to give her a hand. The small fact that she was taking his shirt off sent a rush of excitement through his body to a central area between his legs. He grabbed onto the fabric just below her hand and just pulled, sending buttons flying off to the left and littering the armchair like large snowflakes.

Sitting up, Hermione slid her hand under the collar of the shirt and pushed it lightly over his shoulder. Draco helped her, shifting his weight to hold himself up on his shins while he pushed the shirt the rest of the way off of his own shoulders. He pulled the shirt off completely and tossed it carelessly away, paying no mind to where it landed. He'd find it later.

Slight disappointment filled Hermione's already clouded judgment. He still had a white tee shirt on, covering his chest. She pulled at it, tugging it loose from its place tucked into his black pants. Thankfully, Draco didn't fight her, again. Instead, he helped her to get it off over his head, their lips only separating for a brief few seconds, but her hand was forced free of his hair. It didn't bother her at that moment though, since now she was free to explore his chest and abdomen. Her hands were free to wander over his smooth, pale skin.

The sensation of her fingertips grazing along his defined muscles sent tremors of pleasure up and down his body, goose bumps popping up along his shoulders and back. Draco allowed his right hand to get lost in her hair again, but the other snaked its way behind her back and pulled her close, sliding her away from the back of the chair.

Hermione took in a deep breath to avoid making any sounds to show her delight when his lips found their way to the sensitive areas on her neck. He made his way across her skin, biting lightly and cautiously until he arrived at her collarbone. Both of his hands pressed against her lower back, pulling her closer still, even as he pushed his way off of the overstuffed chair to move her to the floor where he'd have more room to do as he pleased. She didn't fight him, but instead moved easily with him until her knees hit the ground and the two were kneeling before one another. He held her close with one arm as he lowered her to the ground beside him, once again straddling over her.

"What are you doing to me, Granger?" he whispered, his voice more hoarse then it should be. Yet, Draco couldn't remember a time like this before, even considering all of the girls that he had been with throughout the past few years. There was just something different about her, something unattainable that he needed to conquer over and over again until everyone knew that it was his.

Not waiting for an answer, Draco traced the low collar of her tank top with gentle, sensual kisses while his hands grabbed onto the bottom hem and pulled up. He could feel her chest rise and fall rapidly at the heated endeavor and he knew he couldn't stand waiting any longer. He dropped the fabric and realigned with his new target, the top seam. He gripped it tightly in both hands and pulled, ripping the fabric halfway through the small shirt to a place just below her breasts. He wasted no time and immediately got back to covering her chest in tender kisses, occasionally nibbling at the skin across the top of her breasts.

Hermione let out a small sigh and reached down to the ripped fabric of her shirt, pulling on it to complete what Draco had started. Her flat stomach was now exposed to him, along with a full view of her crimson bra. An eager yearning burned blatantly in his gaze as he looked from this new area back up to her hesitant, chocolate eyes.

Draco continued his trail, moving slowly through the valley between her breasts until he made his way to her stomach. He couldn't believe how smooth her skin felt beneath his lips and under his fingertips as they slowly followed down her sides. The thrill of it all sent electricity coursing through his veins as his hands reached the top seam of her pants. His fingers stumbled over the strings keeping them tightly held against her hips, and he began to attack the task of untangling them with a distracted mind.

As her hands found their way back to his hair, Hermione could swear there were quiet voices outside of the entrance, but then again, Godric Gryffindor's portrait was usually blabbering away to some other deceased witch or wizard in their own frame across the hall. She took a deep breath and held it while Draco began to slowly inch the sweatpants downward from her hips and over her thighs.

His lips curved into a smile against her skin as he discarded the offending piece of clothing across the room. His fingertips found their way to the laced edge of the black and white pair of panties keeping him from his desired destination. He slipped the tip of his index and middle fingers under the seam and grabbed the silky fabric in his hand. It was so soft to the touch, yet all he wanted to do was rip them apart. She was driving him mad by simply allowing him to do whatever he wanted. He had the strange feeling that she wouldn't stop him, not matter how far he decided to go that night.

Laughter rung out in the hallway outside of the shared common room, alerting Hermione, but she was too paralyzed by her mixed emotions to even move or make a sound. It was apparent to her that Draco had completely missed it, ignoring anything but her body. She could swear that Gryffindor was talking to a voice unfamiliar to the portraits in the halls: one that sounded too close to that of the Headmistress for her comfort.

"Stop," she whispered finally, releasing his hair from her grasp and smacking him repeatedly on the shoulder. "Stop. I think McGonagall is here."

"No. You're just hearing things. She's tucked away in the comfort of her own quarters. We're fine," he said in a hurried voice, more eager than anything to get in her pants, literally.

"Oh, Godric," they heard, followed by a laugh. "I look nothing short of horrid right now. I just rolled out of my bed to find out where Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger were during their patrol time."

"Oh Minerva! You're simply stunning!" Gryffindor's voice followed.

Hermione jumped, shoving Draco off of her and frantically scrambling for her pants. She slipped them back on quickly and retrieved his button down shirt. Without realizing it, it had caught onto something beside the fire as she pulled and ripped through the sleeve. "Put it on. Now!" she exclaimed.

"Thank you," McGonagall chimed, just as the door began to squeak open. Draco's shirt was half on, the ripped arm hanging down as Hermione frantically tried to push it up over his muscles.


	3. You Shouldn't Kiss Me Like This

Sorry it took a while for an update. Been going through a rocky time. Hope you like. Chapter 4 is started already. ^^ R&R please.

-Kristen

**You Shouldn't Kiss Me Like This**

"Excuse me," they heard. Hermione did the only thing she could think of and pulled a closed fist back past her ear, throwing the hardest punch she could towards Draco, cracking him square in the jaw just in time for the Headmistress to round the corner and catch a glimpse of the implied fight.

"Miss Granger!" the witch called out, rushing forward to Draco's side as he landed in a daze on the couch behind him. The couch where everything had started. She placed a wrinkled hand on his cheek and looked up, blinking a few times as almost all of Hermione was exposed to her.

She quickly wrapped the tank tops pieces as tightly around her as she could, covering her exposed skin and intimates from the Headmistress. "He started it. He was calling me a mudblood and just harassing me. I only hit him in self defense," she said quickly before she was even asked for an explanation.

"Can you explain then why he's sweating profusely in tattered clothing?" she asked in response.

Hermione almost smiled. _'Yes, if you want to know what we almost had sex in our common room,'_ she thought, but she held her tongue in time to catch herself before she spoke. "It was a very heated argument."

Draco made a moan of distress as he sat up straight, rubbing his hand along his bottom jaw. All he could think about was how badly he just wanted to throw Hermione across the room and beat the life out of her, among doing other things. The thoughts almost made him laugh aloud. "She called me a selfish git that only cares about what people think of me. I do care about what people think of me, but I didn't start it," he said, adding to the tale they were spinning creatively.

"And does that explain why Miss Granger is dressed so… indecently?"

Sucking it up, Draco took a deep breath as McGonagall's eyes landed on his. "I got angry and tried to grab her, but she got away and I ripped her shirt. You can't honestly believe that I would want to see that, can you?" he asked, his voice disgusted at the mere idea of it.

Hermione's eyes narrowed at the comment as she crossed her arms over her barely covered torso. "Well, maybe you shouldn't have attacked me in the first place, Malfoy."

"Maybe you should've just never been born, Granger," he retorted. "I think we'd all be better off."

"That's quite enough. I will not have the two Head students of this school bickering and fighting one another. I had trusted that the two of you would be more well behaved towards each other, but apparently I was dreadfully wrong. You will need to be punished," McGonagall said, straightening up and folding her hands neatly in front of her. "You shall both serve detention with Professor Binns each night after classes are back in session for your lack of reasoning. Now, I would advise putting some clothing on that doesn't look like a tornado ripped through your common room before you leave for your patrols."

With that, McGonagall left in a huff, clearly displeased with what she had walked in the room to find. Hermione let out the deep breath that she didn't realize was being held in her lungs. After a few minutes, she finally spoke again. "Sorry," she said quietly, rubbing her arm in her hand. "Did I hurt you?"

"Did you hurt me? Didn't you hear the bones crack?" he asked, sitting down again in the chair. "Bloody hell, Granger," he added; his voice was barely audible as he rubbed his cheek in his hand. Whatever had come over him before McGonagall came into their common room almost frightened him. He had never let himself get that carried away with someone like Hermione before. She wasn't even his type. What was going on with him?

"I really am sorry. I didn't mean to hit you that hard. It was just so easy," she said, falling backwards into the cushions on the couch behind her. She stared ahead for a long while, eyes blindly gazing into the scorching fire. She had lost control of herself back there. She couldn't do that again. What would happen if anyone were to find out about that incident? No one could find out. It would just ruin her. "I think it's best that no one knows about…"

"About what?" Draco asked, glancing over towards her out of the corner of his eye. He couldn't believe how vulnerable she looked, clutching her shirt tightly around her body to cover herself up.

"About… you know…"

"About that?"

Hermione nodded quickly, finally allowing her eyes to land on him again.

"Right. Like I'd allow anyone to know about that," he commented, rolling his eyes.

Hermione's subtle stare turned into a glare. "Right. Like I'm not good enough for you."

"Exactly."

"Draco Malfoy, you are the most stubborn, inadequate little git that anyone could ever imagine. You've got no right to agree to anything like that."

"You were the one who suggested it. I just figured you'd want to keep it between us because of the relationship that we have in front of everyone. No need to get defensive," he said, averting his gaze.

Hermione sat in silence for a moment, her glare slowly softening. Her only thoughts were those about how he would be worth the loss of respect from her fellow classmates. She shook the ideas from her mind, concentrating on the matter at hand. "Right. Just between us then."

"Of course."

"Right." She sat for a moment still, the awkward silence killing her gradually. "On that note, I suppose I'll see you tomorrow," she added, standing up. When he didn't reply within a few seconds, she turned away and walked towards the short flight of stairs to her dorm room.

"Tomorrow it is," he said, just as he heard the squeak of the door opening into her room. When the clicking sound of the door shutting alerted him, he signed loudly. "Hermione," he added to himself, letting his head fall to rest on the back of the armchair. After a long while, Draco finally stood up from his seat and made his way to his dorm, one last glance towards her bedroom door signifying a final goodnight to his female interest.

When he finally made his way into his sanctuary, he leaned against the door, dropping his head down and shaking it tenderly from side to side, holding his jaw again. His mind still wandered, thinking about what could've happened if the damned Headmistress hadn't barged in to interrupt them. Damn that woman! How dare she just walk right in like she owned the place? What if something had been going on? What if something important was happening? What if McGonagall just ruined the only chance Draco would ever have of a decent relationship with Hermione or worse yet, having his way with her? As horrible as the thought would be for anyone else to have, it seemed perfectly acceptable for him to be angry about such a thing.

Flustered, he made his way to his bed, flopping down heavily and grunting to himself. He wanted to finish what was started. And he wanted to finish it now. But she wasn't in the mood. He knew it. It had been ruined. Completely.

There was a quiet sound of a door clicking shut from behind him, causing his head to pop up in excitement. He waited for a moment, listening carefully for her footsteps coming to his door. After a moment, when they never came, he pushed himself up from his bed and looked around, trying to find his clock. It dawned on him that he had left it in the common room. His palm made contact with his forehead almost instantly, but he went to make his way out of the room anyway. When he pulled the door open, Hermione was standing there in her robes, hand up in a small fist, ready to knock for him, but almost afraid.

"Whoa, whoa. Call off the army. You don't need to hit me again," Draco said, putting a hand up in front of hers. He knew by the way she was dressed that she wasn't here to finish that he had started. Unfortunately, she was there because of their patrol.

"We should go," she said, avoiding his eyes and turning away quickly. His hand on her wrist startled her and she spun around, looking up at him. "What?"

"Give me a second," he said, turning back into his dorm, but pulling her along with him. "I've got to get a shirt on," he added, forcing her into the room with him. When he released her wrist, he noticed that her arms quickly wrapped around herself, pulling her robe tight. She didn't change. She was still dressed in her sweatpants and torn tank top. Just remembering how vulnerable she looked on the floor beneath him was starting him up again. He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, trying desperately to shake the feeling from inside of himself.

After he finally got his shirt on, he turned and walked past her, heading towards his cloak, draped across the sofa. She followed him in silence, keeping her arms across her torso. Like anyone aside from a ghost would see what she was wearing underneath of those Gryffindor robes. The only other people who knew were McGonagall and himself. "Why didn't you change?" he asked, glancing back to her.

"I… I didn't think we had time," she said, her voice crying out for the awkward silence they had been experiencing beforehand. She didn't want to talk. She just wanted to get this next half hour over with so that she could lock herself in her dorm for the rest of the winter holiday. Well, the rest of the holiday aside from the hour each day and each night that she had to spend with Draco for patrolling.

"There's always time to change your shirt," she commented, throwing the cloak over his shoulders and heading towards the portrait hole. "Are you coming?"

She nodded quickly and followed behind him, getting out before the portrait swung back around to close the door. Most of the walk was silent, as the two patrolled the fifth floor corridor, aside from the occasional greeting to a passing ghost.

"Look, Draco… About tonight, I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let things get that far and I know you probably think even less of me now. But I just… I… I don't know why I'm even bothering to talk to you about this."

His eyes wandered back over to her while she spoke for what seemed like the millionth time during the past twenty minutes. They were already on their way back to the common room and there hadn't even been a single word exchanged between them. "What?"

"I was just saying that I'm… I'm sorry about the way I had acted earlier this evening," she said, reluctant to repeat herself. "I think that we need to be more professional—"

The blank wall seemed to be the perfect place to push her up against in Draco's mind. He didn't want to bother listening to the rest of her little speech about how they needed to be more professional around one another and how they should have a business type relationship. Hermione looked shocked, pressed between his body and the wall. He smirked and then pulled her into a kiss that, to his surprise, she immediately returned, gripping his cloak tightly in her fists. For a second, he thought about pulling away, but when he hesitated, one of her hands found the back of his head and pulled him back in.

His instant reaction was to get rid of her clothing, so he tried. But when he did, she pushed him away roughly. "Not here," she instructed, pushing herself away from the wall and turning away, walking towards their dorm. Draco followed, quickening his pace to catch up to her, and grabbing her hand in his when he finally slowed to walk beside her.

Hermione was more surprised by this than by the sudden kiss in the hallway. However, she closed her fingers, interlocking them with his and keeping her mouth shut about it. A small smile crept across her lips as she did her best to keep her emotions to herself.

She still wasn't sure why this was happening, or rather how it was happening. The fact that Draco Malfoy hated her a few months ago and was now attempting to rip her clothing off at every chance he had baffled her mind, And yet, she couldn't help but let things happen on their own and see where they went. After all, it wasn't every day that the Prince of Slytherin and Gryffindor's most well-known muggle-born were walking hand-in-hand through the halls of Hogwarts in the middle of the night. She could only imagine what her best friends would say if they knew. The two of them completely despised the Head Boy, but it wasn't their choice as to whom she…

They weren't dating. What was she thinking? She wasn't thinking, obviously. The realization made her grip loosen slightly, but a gentle squeeze brought her back from her thoughts and her fingers tightened against the soft skin on the back of his hand. Her hand seemed to fit into his nicely. Hers were small and his were considerably larger, and she decided to focus most of her attention on them as they made their way back over to their common room.

It seemed to be only a matter of seconds once they reached the common room that he had her pinned up against the walls. His lips pressed hungrily onto hers and she welcomed them warmly. Her mind was racing back to the incident before they had left for their rounds, before Professor McGonagall had come into their dorm and interrupted whatever would have happened. She didn't even realize what had been going on by the time he had her down to her pajamas again, ripped shirt and all. That was his first goal. Remove the torn shirt and the pants.

Her hands found their way to his hair and down his neck where they pushed the black gabardine cloth of his cloak off of his shoulders and onto the floor behind him. Immediately she found her way to the buttons of his shirt and took hold of the cotton fabric, ripping the buttons off of in her haste of removing the garment. She pulled it in an almost violent fashion from his arms, the pads of her fingers running gently across the skin of his chest afterward.

Draco almost couldn't take it. He wanted to take her right then, but not there. Not in the walkway to their common room. But he didn't have many other options of places to take her. It was his room, hers, or the floor where it had all started before. The floor in the common area didn't seem right and he didn't want to just barge into her room. That left only one option.

He left all of the discarded clothing on the floor and pulled her tightly into his arms, carrying her up the short flight of stairs to his room, his lips never leaving hers. He maneuvered his hand to open the door without dropping Hermione, and pushed it shut with the heel of his foot.

A second later, he had her beneath him on the smooth comforter covering his bed. He pushed himself away, finally breaking the elongated and passionate kiss. He pushed the ripped halves of her shirt away from her stomach and chest and then off of her completely, exposing the deep red fabric of her bra again to his eyes.

As he watched the rise and fall of her chest, he worked on the string keeping her pants around her hips. He was so wrapped up in what was going on around him that he barely noticed Hermione's lack of effort to give him a hand. He didn't even care. He was perfectly capable of removing her clothing along with his own.

After a few more minutes of struggling to get everything out of the way. Draco had finally accomplished his goal and removed all of her clothing. He was displeased though, since as soon as he had done so, she had covered herself under his blankets, her hands shaking slightly from her nerves.

"Draco," she said, her voice barely audible over the thick silence in the air surrounding them.

"Don't talk, please," he replied, removing the last of his clothing and crawling into the bed beside her. "No one will know about this."

Hermione felt her heart rate increase dramatically at his words as she pulled the blankets tighter around herself. "Look, I just don't think I can do this."

"Why not? I've already seen you naked. And, I must say, I'm quite pleased with what I've seen," he told her, raising an eyebrow as he moved closer to her.

A glare told him quite simply that she didn't want his smart comments.

His face turned stone serious at her lack of amusement. He moved closer again, pressing himself flush against her and removing the blankets from between them for the opportunity to feel her skin against his. "Tell me honestly that for at least the past year you haven't imagined this moment in your mind. Tell me that you didn't want to see what was underneath my clothes. Tell me that you didn't want to do this an hour ago," he said quietly.

His breath was warm against her neck and his skin was hot against hers. He was right. Completely right. She had imagined it quite a bit, but she never thought it would happen. It was like the impossible fantasy coming true before her eyes. And his body. It was more than she had imagined before, and that sent chills up and down her spine. And she had been ready to do this an hour ago. Her subconscious had been ignored to fulfill the needs of her inexplicable emotions.

When she didn't reply, he allowed his fingers to gently skim across her cheek, rubbing his thumb gently across her bottom lip. "Tell me, Hermione," he said in a whisper.

Her dark eyes finally landed on him, the answer obvious in her expression. "It's not that any of that isn't true. And I was ready earlier. But… I'm not now. I just… I need a little bit of time to think."

"About what?" he asked, adjusting slightly to bring his lips closer to hers.

"About what I'm doing," she said, following suit with Draco and letting her fingers linger on his neck. "I just…" She closed her eyes and let out a small sigh.

He didn't really understand what was keeping her from moving on ahead. It was just normal, wasn't it? It wasn't like they had to be together forever if they did anything here. What if that was what she wanted? What if she was saving herself for whoever she thought was the right person? He figured that must be it. He had to play to that.

"So, I guess I'm just not the right one," he said, withdrawing his fingertips from her soft skin and moving away from her, giving her back the blankets that he had removed from her before. "I understand," he added, rolling over onto his other side and waiting.

Hermione felt an ache inside of her that was indescribable. She wanted him, but she was scared. She didn't want to make any mistakes when it came to those types of relationships. She wanted everything to be perfect. But she had never felt this urge to keep anyone so close before. She felt an odd sensation of comfort with him.

"It's not that," she said finally, closing the space between them, but letting the blankets where they were. "It's just… I don't know," she added, pulling on his shoulder to roll him back towards her. The distressed look in his silvery eyes was almost heartbreaking. "I'm sorry."

He actually thought that he understood what she was talking about, even though she had barely said a word. She was innocent. She was pure. But all he wanted to do was take that away from her and keep her for his own pleasure. It was almost enough to keep him from trying to have his way with her. Almost.

"Hermione," he said, making it a point to use her name still, "I know that you don't think I'm the right one. You don't need to deny it to me. I understand."

She took in a deep breath and looked down at him. Without another thought, she leaned forward and pressed her lips gingerly against his. It was a small kiss, just a peck, but the message was simple enough.

"You shouldn't kiss me like this, Hermione."

When she did it again, he responded in the same fashion, and let his hand tangle itself into her hair while hers lightly stroked his chest.


	4. Something I Can Never Have

Draco awoke the next morning to the sun blasting into the window beside his bed. He cursed himself for forgetting to close the curtains before he had passed out. He sat up, rubbed an eye and took in a deep breath, taking in the morning. The door, slightly ajar alerted his memory to the night before, and he immediately glanced down to his bed to see if she was still there. No. She had run off. She was probably scared out of her wits and never wanted to speak to him again. But nothing had happened. She'd given him a few light pecks, like ones he had never gotten before in his life, and took off, stealing one of his blankets to cover herself as she left his room.

Running his hands through his hair, Draco got out of his bed, still unclothed, but he didn't care about that. However, she did. He pulled a pair of sleeping pants on and pulled the door open from his room. He recalled when she left, pulling the door almost shut behind her with a small goodnight and leaving him to toss and turn in an uncomfortable, unfulfilled and angry manner. It had taken him at least an hour to even get his eyes to stay closed without her being there.

He made his way to her bedroom door and knocked on it lightly, and waited a few seconds before turning the handle and pushing the door open quietly. To his surprised, Hermione wasn't in her bed, but rather, still wrapped in his blanket, cuddled up in the corner of her room, sound asleep. He smiled a little and walked over to her, kneeling down in front of her. A stray piece of her hair laid across her eyes, and he pushed it away gently before picking her up into his arms carefully, trying his best not to wake her.

Draco laid Hermione comfortably on her bed and pulled the blanket out from underneath of her, exposing her body to him once again. He felt his pulse quicken at the site of her body again, but held himself back. He may have been a hormonal teenage boy, but he wasn't desperate enough for some action to take it while she was asleep. He glanced around her room, wondering where exactly she kept her pajamas, since he had destroyed the ones she had been wearing the night before. He shrugged and left her there, heading to his room.

When he returned, he placed a paid of pants similar to the ones he was wearing and a tee shirt on her bed. It took a lot of effort to get her dressed without waking her from her slumber, but he did it successfully. He laid her back and covered her again with his blanket, leaning on his elbow and watching her lips curve into a comfortable smile. She was finally at ease, compared to how she had been sleeping before at least. He lowered himself onto the bed beside her, pushing hair away from her eyes again and laying on his side, staring at her. There was still a small smile across his lips. Why he was so attracted to her, he really had no idea. He never had been before. All of the things that he had said to her the night before were just assumptions that most of the girls he had been with before had all agreed upon. His thoughts of her helped him fall back asleep there with a hand in front of her neck.

Hermione woke up, taking a deep breath and opening her eyes slowly. Seeing Draco there nearly made her jump from her skin, but seeing him asleep put a smile across her lips. He looked so innocent laying there on her bed. On her bed? She thought back to the night before and immediately looked down at herself to see unfamiliar clothing. It was sweet she thought, that he had dressed her. She supposed it was at least. As sweet as he could be for as insistent as he had been the night before. But she had led him on and left him hanging. She felt guilty about it. She was positive that he had never been turned down before, but after taking a look at his body, she didn't know how she had managed to do it herself. She had never expected anything like that to happen in her life, especially the way that it had. But she had stopped herself… barely.

Leaning down, Hermione gave Draco a light peck on the forehead, not expecting him to wake up from it as he had. She blushed slightly, looking down at him as she backed away again. "Good morning," she mumbled, sitting up in the bed, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them.

"Hardly," he said, pushing himself up to rest on his elbow again. "I don't like waking up alone."

Hermione felt guilt weighing down heavily on her shoulders at his words. She had gotten up and walked away from the situation in the early morning hours, but she had sat around most of the night, unable to sleep from her worked up nerves. She had fallen asleep after the sun came up, but she had been so tired from shaking in nervous tension that she wasn't able to even move to get in bed, let alone put a shirt on.

"I'm sorry. I just… I just couldn't… do it," she finally said after a few long moments of awkward silence.

"I know. I understand. Some people can't do it because they're bad at it. Or at least they think they are," he replied, turning onto his back and staring up at the high ceiling.

She glared at him over her shoulder. "It's not either of those reasons," she said, her voice laced with slight anger. "I'm just not ready for taking that step with you… or anybody."

Draco shook his head. "It's not that you're not ready, because you said so yourself that you were last night. It's that you're afraid and you don't think I'm worth it."

Hermione thought for a moment. Maybe he was right. Maybe she didn't think he was worth it. But she wouldn't have let herself get nearly as close as she had the night before if she didn't think he was worth it. After all, she would be doing something everyone thought would be impossible. And, not to mention, she really did have feelings for him. But she could never tell him that. If she did, he'd just use it against her to humiliate her. She decided it would be best to keep that to herself, at least for a while.

"It's not that either. I just don't want to feel used and then left for the entire school to make fun at. I don't want to be taken advantage of like you've done to so many other girls before and then went off and told everyone how horrible they were in bed. I don't want to be scarred like they have," she said, no longer looking at him. She didn't think she could after saying that.

"Do you think I would lie to you?"

"Is that a serious question?"

"Hermione, when I told you that no one would know, I meant it. I've never said that to anyone before. Whether you decide to believe me or not is your own choice."

She sat for a moment, and then looked back to him again. "Why are you in here?"

"I came to check on you this morning, and when I saw you asleep in the corner still in wrapped in my blanket, I figured that you were uncomfortable. If you'd prefer, I can leave you here to wallow in your own sorrows," he replied, getting off of her bed. He glanced at the clock hanging on the wall and realized that he had been asleep there beside her for a few hours.

She took a deep breath as her eyes followed him towards the door. "Don't go," she said, her voice barely audible.

Draco turned around and looked down at her in his pajamas on the bed. She looked vulnerable, and that was one thing he could not deal with if she was going to lead him on again. He took a seat beside her, running a hand through his hair and letting out a breath he didn't know he had been holding in. His eyes landed on hers again. "Well, now what? I'm here."

Shifting her weight, Hermione turned her body towards him, Draco following suit, and pulled his hands into hers. "Draco, I want you," she said, her voice still quiet and just above a whisper.

"Do you? I had no idea judging by your previous actions," he said, a slight hint of sarcasm behind his words.

Hermione held back the smart comment that begged to come out of her lips. "Yes, I do. I just don't know if I can do this with someone that I don't know truly cares about me."

He didn't say anything. Rather, he took his hands from hers and places one on her neck, and the other on the bottom of her cheek. He pulled her closer, his eyes focused directly on hers. "Did I ever say that I didn't care about you?" Before he gave her a chance to answer, his lips brushed gently against hers, a kiss he never thought he'd be able to give anyone seriously. It felt different, and for a short moment, he couldn't move.

She was starting to get used to the quickened heart rate that Draco caused whenever they were together. He always managed to flare up some kind of emotion inside of her that she couldn't resist much longer. "Draco…"

He put a finger over her lips, silencing her before she had a chance to refuse him what he wanted. "Please…" he said, not needing to finish the sentence. They both knew what the other wanted at that moment, but whether or not they would go through with it was still unknown.

She watched his lips closing in on hers again and returned the welcomed kiss. His tongue played at her lips, begging and pleading for her to kiss him again like she had the night before. She quickly obliged. She wanted it just as bad as he did. Of the people she had kissed before, she had never experienced something as alluring as sharing a moment like this with him.

He didn't expect it, but she pushed him away, shaking her head with her eyes shut tightly. "No, I can't do it. I can't do this, Draco." She turned away from him, wrapping her arms around herself again. She wanted him so badly, but there was no way that should bring herself to be intimate with someone she barely knew. She felt her weight shift on the bed and glanced over the find that he had gotten up and was now standing in front of her, hands on her shoulders.

"You can't tease me like this. I don't like it one bit and I'm not going to deal with it anymore. You need to tell me now. Am I going to get some or not?" he asked, making it plain and simple.

Hermione blinked a few times and looked away from his hard stare. Was he going to get some? What kind of a question was that? Did he really expect her to answer him with a yes? She wanted to, sure, but she couldn't justify it. She shook her head after a few seconds.

"Then I'll have to take some. You won't be that something I can never have," he replied, leaning in closer to her.


	5. Sell My Old Clothes, I'm Off to Heaven

In a rush, Hermione brought her hand up full force to smack him across the face. It was degrading, yes, but she could think of nothing else to do after his comment. He caught her hand and used it against her to push her down onto the bed. With an awkward twist of his hips, he had her legs on either side of his waist by the time he got her other hand in his.

"Draco! Get off of m—"

He cut her off, pressing his lips hard against hers, pushing her against the bed more than he had intended. He felt his legs starting to slip beneath him on the carpet on her floor and pulled himself up onto the bed. He felt her kicking and she broke her mouth away from his, gasping for air to fill her lungs. Perhaps he was being a bit harsh on her… But the silly girl deserved it. No ordinary girl teased Draco Malfoy to the extent that she did and got away with it.

But then again, she wasn't an ordinary girl. She was his enemy. His rival. She was the one person he would never be able to have, not that he should want to have her. But he did. Desperately. So desperately that he had to lock his conscious away in a small box inside of his mind and ignore it as it pounded furiously on the top of the cage, trying to get out.

"Get off of me right… now!" she said, quickly maneuvering her leg under his chest and pushing him away with her shin. "Draco!" She pushed him far enough away to get her foot against his chest. With all of her strength, she pressed her heel into his sternum with a kick, effectively knocking the wind out of him.

Draco flew off of her, staggering back a few feet and clutching his chest tightly. His breathing came in short, desperate attempts to fill his lungs with oxygen again. He watched as she rolled over quickly and started towards the corner of the bed. His eyes followed her movements and widened immediately when he saw what she was reaching for. Draco lunged at her, barely able to breathe. He grabbed a hold of her legs and pulled, but it was to no avail.

Hermione flipped around, her ankle in Draco's tight grasp, and pointed her wand directly between his eyes. "Petrificus Totalus!" she shouted, watching as a jet of pale silver light escaped from the tip of her wand and wrapping itself around him. It pulled him together, keeping his arms close to his body and forcing his rigid form to the floor. Shaking and out of breath, Hermione sat for a moment, staring into the silence of her room. Her heart was beating so hard beneath her ribs that she felt like her chest was going to explode any minute.

When she finally felt that she could look at him again, Hermione, still clutching her wand tightly at her side, moved slowly towards the bottom of the bed. There he was. Completely helpless, laying on her floor. Her eyes were still wide with the shock of the events that had just unfurled before her. She stood up, stepping over him at the foot of her bed. He was laying face down, smashed into the carpet. With her foot, she poked him, and then proceeded to bend over and flip him when he didn't move. His fierce eyes landed on her immediately and made her jump back, thinking that the look he was giving her would kill her on the spot. A sharp chill ran down her spine as she felt that gaze digging into her conscious. She almost felt pity for him, stuck on the floor like that.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione straightened up again and looked down at him. "You still need to learn some manners, ferret," she said, grabbing a short stack of clothing from the dresser and taking one last look at him before leaving and locking the door.

Draco lay motionless on the floor, unable to even think straight. _'How dare she do this to me? I'm Draco Malfoy! Bloody hell! That little witch is going to wish she had never been born when I get finished with her. And she has the nerve to leave me here like this? I can't even blink!' _ Similar thoughts ran through Draco's mind for almost an hour before he began to notice that he was able to clench and unclench his fists. He was slowly gaining his mobility back. Oh, how he wanted to make her pay so dearly for what she had done to him. She had denied him something he wanted. No one denied Draco Malfoy what he wanted. Not even her. No one. He would get his revenge.

After several moments of testing his limbs, Draco was able to move fully again and ready to set out on his quest to destroy Hermione Granger's life. He'd find her most likely in the library, he decided, and in a huff, he left her room. Slamming doors left and right, Draco hastily got dressed in some everyday clothing and threw a black cloak over his shoulders. He mumbled angrily to himself incoherently as he stormed down the stairs and took off towards the common room's exit. He barely caught the brown hair tied up in a pony tail on the other side of the couch as he made his way to the door. He quickly spun on his heels and turned around, his furious eyes shooting daggers at her.

"Alright, Granger," he said, his voice way above the generic inside level. "Bloody hell! What the fuck do you think you're doing?" His volume slowly got louder and louder towards the end of his question. He loudly moved around the couch and glared down at her, taking all of his will power to not beat the life out of her that instant.

Hermione ignored him, her eyes continuing to scan the words on the pages of the book she had in her hands. She seemed to not even notice that he was standing there screaming at her.

He violently reached forward and ripped the book from her hands, throwing it forcefully onto the ground and listening as it slid behind him along the carpet. The room was a deadly quiet as he stood there staring.

She rolled her eyes. "Draco Malfoy, if you're not going to be reasonable about this entire situation, I'm afraid I'm going to have to continue ignoring your existence for the time being," she said, not even looking at him as she pulled another book off of the table beside her and opened it to the spot she had marked with a ribbon.

Enraged, he pulled the book from her hands and threw it to rest with the other on the floor, then proceeded to push the remaining stack beside her off of the end table and onto the floor near the fireplace.

Her eyes moved to land on the pile of scattered books, and then finally locked onto his. "That was rude," she said calmly. She stood up and gently pushed her way passed him to retrieve the first book he had so kindly disposed of for her.

Draco grabbed her arm and pulled her towards him, not caring whether or not her was hurting her. The pained look on her face told him that he was, but he was too pissed off to even feel any sort of sympathy towards her. "You think you're on top of the world, don't you, Granger? Just because you're an essential part of the Golden Trio. I'll tell you what," he said, his voice getting lower and lower as he watched fear appearing behind her eyes. "If I killed you right now, no one that matters would even notice."

Hermione blinked a few times and the trepidation in her eyes was gone. Her shocked gawk hardened into a defiant stare filled with anger and loathing. If looks could kill, he would've been dead on his feet.

"First of all," she started off, very calmly, "you have no right to speak to me like that." Hermione wrenched her arm out of his grasp and took a step closer to him in rebellion. "You're a coward and a player. You're so full of yourself that even your so called friends can't give you an ego boost that is big enough to satisfy your selfish needs." She took a few more steps toward him gradually as she spoke. "You're incapable of loving someone, of knowing what it's like to care for someone so much that you'd stand in front of a bullet for them." At this, Draco's eyes, for just a millisecond showed a hint of confusion. Apparently he wasn't familiar with the phrase 'to take a bullet for someone.' She shrugged it off and continued. "You have no idea what it's like try looking at something through someone else's eyes and I'm sure that if you were given the opportunity to do so, you'd simple laugh the idea off and tell them how much better your life is than theirs." She was standing right in front of him, her chest just barely touching his as she glared up at him. "You're a self-centered, arrogant, incompetent, untrustworthy, unlovable, stuck-up, completely foolish little prick," she spat, ending her rant.

The rage boiled behind Draco's eyes as she insulted every fiber of his being. He didn't even know what to say. If he did, he was almost sure that he wouldn't be able to spit it back out at her anyway. He was so angry that his entire body started trembling more and more with each word she spoke until he was shaking with fury. He did the only thing he could think of that would be effective.

The scene seemed to play out in slow-motion as Draco pulled his fist up and cracked his knuckles square into Hermione's cheekbone. He heard a shattering crack as her eyes squeezed shut in pain and her head turned away from him. Her body fell excruciatingly slow to the ground and crumpled into a heap on the carpet beside him. He didn't have any control over his body, but he finally regained his composure when he realized he'd been mercilessly kicking her in the stomach for a minute.

His heart dropped into his stomach at the sight of Hermione bruised and beaten on the floor in front of him. Tears were falling freely from her firmly shut eyes. Her sobs of pain were coming sporadically as she tried to catch her breath. A small trickle of blood escaped her lips and rolled gently down across the side of her jaw before a drop fell to the floor making the loudest bang in the world he had ever heard. He watched in horror as the weight of what he had just done crashed down on his shoulders making his limbs feel heavy hanging from his joints. His eyes followed her motions and he gaped at her pained sounds and expressions as she wrapped her arms around her stomach.

He stood there, staring blankly at her. He had no idea what to do. He had never actually beaten up a girl in his life. He figured, or at least he thought he figured, that it would be just like beating anyone up, only better because of who she was and the company that she kept. He never imagined that his heart would break at the sight of her. She was crying. Crying because of him. She couldn't move. And he was standing there, frozen in shock at what he had done.

After a few moments of nothing but the sound of her agonizing sobs and the blood dripping off of her jaw, Draco dropped to his knees beside her. He didn't speak. He couldn't. He had no idea what to say. Again. He reached a hand out towards her and she flinched, pushing herself away from the ground with a look of excruciating pain disgracing her normally angelic features. She kicked her feet out and pushed herself away from him frantically, still holding her stomach with one hand.

"Hermione…" He didn't know what he was going to say. She was officially scared of him. Completely terrified to be within a few inches of him. She was making it pretty obvious that all she wanted to do was get the hell away from him. "You need to get to the Hospital Wing," he said quickly. He knew that all of the kicking he had just done to her with those fancy Italian shoes that his father had given him certainly should have done a good bit of damage to her insides. He heaved himself up on to his knees and slowly moved towards her, holding his hands out to signal her that he wasn't going to hurt her again.

The second that he got within a foot of her, her eyes widened in panic and she hurled herself off of the ground and seemed to float through the air a few feet to get away from him. She darted away from him, stumbling quite a few times over her own feet as she just tried desperately to remove herself from his presence.

He never thought he would be the type of person to beat up a girl to such an extent. Even if that girl was Hermione Granger. It just wasn't how he was raised. He didn't particularly want to be like his father, aside from the wealth and power, but after the day that he inadvertently saw his mother after Lucius had finished with her, he had vowed never to do something to that extent to any woman that would put up with his bad habits and temper. He had broken that vow. Hermione had always put up with it, whether or not she wanted to. She had to. She was a generally good person. He knew she had to. He had taken advantage of that. He had taken so much out on her over the past few months, had shared so much valuable and personal information with her… She knew things that even Pansy, Blaise, and Theodore didn't know. There had been something about her that just forced him to open up to her. And this was how he repaid her for being his emotional handbag?

He couldn't remember feeling worse than he did at that moment ever before in his life. He felt as if he had let himself down. Like he had let her down. It was entirely his fault anyway for how she treated him. He had been forcing himself on her. He knew that she wasn't like most of the girls in Slytherin, whose legs spread like butter for him. He knew that it wouldn't be easy. But she had made it seem like it would be much simpler than that. She had made it seem like he could have her. Apparently, he had misread her signals. But her knew that it was his fault. He had kept on going, kept pushing. He cursed himself under his breath as he left the scene of the crime. He couldn't stay in their common room. He had no where to go aside from the Slytherin dungeons. He took one last glance back to her, her fearful eyes gazing at him from the stairs to her room.

"Nothing matters anymore," he said, and then he turned away from her, leaving her alone in the dead silence.

* * *

Sorry it took 90 years for the update. I was working 900 jobs and planning a baby shower… and then my sister had her baby 4 weeks early. -.-


	6. What If

UHM... So I got on a roll here... And decided to give you two chapters within 12 hours of each other. DON'T WORRY. I'll be writing more while I'm at class to get chapter 7 moving... Unfortunately... Having a laptop out on a Drawing board in your Architecture class is normally a dead give-a-way that you're totally NOT doing anything you're supposed to be doing...

Leave me reviews. I love reviews, good or bad. I'm not posting chapter 7 till I'm up to at least 40 reviews. :D Because I'm nice like that. ^^

-Kristen

P.S. I didn't edit this or anything, and you'll have to forgive me if there's spelling or grammar errors. If there are random o's missing, it's because my o key hates me and falls off ALL THE TIME...It just poured rubber cement all over the keyboard. Hopefully it'll help. :D 3

* * *

He had hit her. He had actually hit her. She was still in shock as she clutched at her stomach tightly. But he was right also. She needed to get to the Hospital Wing. Feeling slightly light-headed, Hermione stood up. Too fast. The room began to spin before her eyes and suddenly she saw the floor coming closer and closer. The complete blurriness. Then darkness.

"_Hermione!" she heard, spinning on her heels. There he was, his blond hair shining in the sunlight that poured over the grounds. She smiled and waved at him, then took off towards him, jumping through the air towards his open arms. But she never reached them. She fell to the ground with a loud thud and looked up at him._

"_Draco?" she asked, confusion lacing her quiet voice. She pushed herself up from the ground and walked cautiously towards him. But he never got closer. He just stayed where he was, smiling at her, calling her over to him. The sound of his voice calling out to her made her insides scream for him. _

After a while, Draco decided he should go back to the common room and check to see if Hermione was still there, or if she'd taken his advice and gone to the Hospital Wing. When he finally reached the room, he was greeted by a concerned look from the man resting in the portrait outside.

"Is everything quite alright, Mr. Malfoy?" the stout man asked. Draco ignored him and said the password and swore he heard the old wizard say something about manners as he entered the room. His mind was immediately distracted from the thought at the sight of Hermione's broken and bruised body lying motionless on the floor at the bottom of her stairs.

"_Draco… Quit running away," she said, her voice sounding more and more pathetic with each syllable she spoke. She was racing towards him, faster than she thought she could run. "Draco!"_

"_Come on!" Draco called after her, motioning frantically for her to hurry up. Something was stirring behind him. Something she couldn't quite make out yet. He laughed and held his arms out towards her again to welcome her into his embrace. "Hermione! Hurry up!" He didn't even seem to notice whatever was behind him._

"Granger?" he asked, taking tentative steps towards her. He knew she was a talented witch. For all he knew, she was just playing a joke. His eyes landed on her back to check to see if her lungs were still pulling in air. After a few seconds, he darted towards her and turned her on her back. She didn't move, didn't react to his touch, at least not outwardly.

Draco leaned close and parted her lips with his thumb, then placed his index and middle fingers on the side of her neck. Her breathing was labored and her pulse was so quick that he could barely keep count as her heart pumped the blood through her system. "Hermione!" he yelled, shaking her. "Fuck!"

_Finally she was starting to close the distance between the two of them. She could practically feel his hand running along the sensitive skin of her neck and the feeling of his finger running across her lip before he kissed her. She continued pushing herself farther and faster, the air suddenly thickening around her, making it harder and harder to move._

"_Draco, stay where you are!" she called to him. He was still smiling, open armed and seemingly thrilled to see her. He didn't move, didn't run towards her in return. He just stood there waiting patiently for her to dive into him and plow him over onto the ground with the force of her tackle. _

He was panicking. Nothing like this had ever presented itself to him… especially something that had been his fault. At least he assumed it was his fault. It was highly unlike that she managed to trip down the stairs or over the corner of one of the throw rugs. He knelt down farther. "Hermione…" he said, his voice shaken, still half convinced that she was just pulling his leg. But how could she? Her breathing and pulse were obvious give-a-ways to her lack or amusement at that moment.

He scooped her up into his arms and bolted, kicking the door open to get out of the common room. As he passed the bickering old man, he shot him a glare that put him in his place. But he gaped at the scene he saw afterward and yelled for Draco to run faster. "No shit!" Draco yelled back.

_He was coming closer and closer to her. She could almost reach out and touch him. She could already feel his strong arms sweeping her off of her feet and holding her tightly to his rock-hard chest. Her heart raced almost as quickly as she did. She needed him. She wanted him desperately._

Draco darted around corners, running over first years and ignoring comments from someone about watching where he's going. Most of the commotion stopped when they saw what was going on. The students' eyes filled with horror at the sight of Hermione's limp body in Draco's arms and all of them, exempt of the Slytherins, immediately got out of the way. He hit the final flight of stairs, taking them two of three at a time to reach the Hospital Wing.

_Hermione reached out in front frantically, her fingertips only an inch from his outstretched hand. "Draco! I'm almost there!" she cried, tears blinding her already hazing vision. She extended her arm to it's full length and finally her finger touched his. His arms pulled her over to him, pulling her in close to him. He held her chin between his index finger and thumb and pulled her lips to meet his. She felt as if she could've died right there and been happy. But the uproar behind her caught her attention again and she regretfully puller herself away from his kiss._

"Pomfrey! Now! Emergency!" Draco yelled, not even bothering with the formalities of actually using her proper title. He didn't have time for that. Hermione was getting pale and her skin felt cold to his touch. He couldn't help but think he was starting to lose her. All of it was his own damn fault. He laid Hermione down gently on the nearest bed as the witch rushed towards them. She turned immediately and pulled a vial from the shelf, tilting Hermione's head back and pouring he potion down her throat. They both sat and watched for a minute, both seemingly expecting her to suddenly be alright.

_Hermione finally had him in her arms, but she was distracted. A fight? She sighed and shook her head, apparently not recognizing the voices as anyone that needed to be interrupted. She looked up to Draco again, smiling as he pulled her yet again into a kiss. She parted her lips, allowing his full access to her mouth, which he gladly explored as he ran his hands along the small of her back, then up her spine. It sent a jolt of electricity through her that was almost too real._

Madame Pomfrey held her wand over Hermione's stomach, murmuring to herself some spells that Draco was pretty sure he had never heard before. He watched anxiously as the expression on Hermione's face finally changed from blank to pained, confused. He reached out, holding her hand under his and stood from his seat at her side. He leaned over her, watching her intently for any signs of life beneath her eyelids. Hey eyes were going crazy; back and forth, up and down. What in Merlin's name was she thinking about. He leaned down, without thinking about it, and placed the most gentle, barely-noticeable kiss on her pale, dry lips, then quickly pulled away, his cheeks so lightly flushed that it was barely noticeable.

_Draco looked behind him, watching the battle ensue behind them. "What if I said I loved you?" he said. Hermione eyed him in shock. Of course she loved him. She had never thought about whether or not he loved her. Before she could ask what he was thinking, he had her lips trapped beneath hers again, but she didn't mind that at all. Her arms wrapped around his neck, one hand pushing lightly against his back and the other losing itself in his blond hair. Color. Some sort of color was infiltrating the darkness of her closed eyes. She opened them slightly, just in time to see a jet of green light smash into Draco's back. Her breath caught in her throat as he fell limply on her._

"Draco!" Hermione screamed, flying up from her reclined position in her hospital bed and on full alert of what was around her. First, she noticed Madame Pomfrey, and then her eyes fell on the Head Boy sitting beside her. She pulled her hand from his without even realizing he had been holding it and flung herself towards him, pulling him into a tight embrace, tears rolling down her cheeks in steady streams. "Draco! Draco! You're alive!"

He didn't know what to do. He had just beaten her to a few inches from death and now she was thankful he was alive? He stared ahead in uncertainty, but put an arm around her to return her almost strangling squeeze. Madame Profrey shot him a look and he shrugged a shoulder before urging Hermione down on the bed again. Immediately, her eyes closed with a light flutter and she was again out like a light.

"I think it's best we give her a Dreamless Sleep Potion," she said slowly, staring down at Draco as she walked away. Draco stared down at Hermione. She was motionless again, but her breathing was regular and her heart rate had appeared to slow down again to an almost normal pace. Whatever Madame Pomfrey had given her sure was convenient for someone with internal bleeding and head injuries. Fixed Hermione right up. The witch returned and instructed Draco to hold Hermione's head back while she gave her the serum.

"Alright. She should be fine," she finally said after bandaging up a few cuts and scrapes that Hermione had received either in her falling or her… beating. "Out. She needs rest," she ordered, shooing Draco like he was some sort of animal.

His eyes stayed on Hermione, though. He was too disgusted at himself for what he had done, but he couldn't manage to peel his eyes off of her battered form. "I… I'd like to stay with her," he finally managed to choke out. He could feel the woman's eyes burning into the back of his skull as if she knew that he was the reason that Hermione was there and in such trouble physically. But she said nothing. She simply walked away from him in silence and went back to her office.

Draco sat there for a long time. Before he knew it, all of the light had left the sky and the candle around the infirmary had lit themselves slowly to give the glow back to the room. He had her hand in his again and for a while, he had been staring intently at her to make sure that all of her vital signs stayed normal. She has gasped a few times painfully in her sleep, but then continued to rest peacefully. She looked so… angelic and pure. But battered and bruised. Like a fallen angel.

After a while, he had found himself dozing off beside her in the chair. He ignored the voices from the hallway and the words of the Professors and students that had come to visit her. Everything had passed by him in a blur. He had no idea what he could possibly do for her to make up for this mess. The thought of it almost brought tears to his eyes a few times, and once succeeded. Right after he had been left alone with her.

What seemed like an eternity had passed slowly by. He still held her hand, but his eyes were closed to the dim lighting of the rising sun and to anyone who may come near. He heard a small noise escape Hermione's lips and opened an eye to glance over. She was still again, peaceful. He returned to resting his eyes, but she did it again, this time gripping his hand gently.

Draco turned to look at her, staring down at her intently as she slowly moved in her bed, her eyebrows furrowed and her eyes shut tightly. He watched her closely, ready at any instant to slowly drip more pain medicine down her throat as Madame Pomfrey had instructed him to do throughout the night. But her eyes opened.

"Hermione?" he asked in an almost silent whisper. Finally, her fuzzy haze landed on him.

"Draco?" It seemed to take her a minute to realize who he was exactly, and then, in a blink, she scrambled away from him, taking her hand from his and huddling herself in the corner of the bed. "Get away from me, Malfoy!" she said, her voice cracking from her dry throat.

Draco was almost taken aback by her outburst, but then again… what should he have expected? Certainly not the reaction that he got when she had woken up hours ago. He raised an eyebrow at her and held his hands up in surrender as he leaned away from her.

"What are you doing here?" she asked roughly, her arms immediately covering her stomach. She had a million questions running through her mind, making her brain pound against her skull in agony.

"I brought you here," he replied calmly, trying not to alarm her. "You blacked out in the common room and woke up screaming my name and celebrating the fact that I was alive." He wasn't sure if she'd believe him or not, but it was the truth.

She stared at him still, a chill running down her spine and bringing her back to the reality of the situation. Her insides ached as if they were being reconstructed and her cheek was throbbing. Her touched a finger to it gently and winced at the searing pain that rushed through her nervous system.

"Get the fuck away from me, Malfoy," she said sternly.

"I'm not leaving you here. Not when I was the one who put you here."

The sincere sympathy and aching hurt in his eyes almost made her feel sorry for him. Almost. She couldn't. Not matter how hard she tried. She could not feel sorry for Draco Malfoy. Not after that. Not after the way he had scared her the last morning. Not after how he got her mind so messed up and confused just by giving her sideways glance in Potions. Not after he had opened up to her like he had. She was about to open her mouth in protest, but he spoke before her, bringing a faint memory crashing back into her subconscious, giving her the aching feeling of déjà vu.

"What if I said I loved you?"


	7. A Drag in D Flat

I lied. Here's chapter 7. LUCKY YOU GUYS. Getting 3 chapters in 16 and a half hours. .

Please leave me some feedback. I'd really appreciate it. Really. DO IT NAO.

*cough* Again, this isn't really check for errors very well. I wrote it while I was in class and then typed it up when I got home. I hope you all like it.

-Kristen

. Just a side note... I edited this today (5/26/11) because I no longer liked the ending of the chapter. It wasn't right. So I fixed it, 2 years after writing it. Chapter 8 may be up shortly.

-Kristen

* * *

"What if I said I loved you?" he asked, his eyes eventually peering up at her in curiosity. He had never said anything like that to anyone before. Sure, he had said 'I love fucking with you' many times before but that was different. It was never just 'I love you.' He sat there frozen, her gaze burning into him as if whatever she looked at would just explode from the weight of it. The silence between them filled the air with a tension that was thick enough to cut out shaped and designs with a gentle swish of a wand. But he waited and waited for any kind of a response from her. She just sat there staring at him with a look of malice mixed with dumbfounded confusion.

"You…" she started. Hermione stopped herself from speaking at sat to think for a moment, ignoring the stabbing pains inside of her. What if he said he loved her? That wouldn't change the fact that he had still beaten her mercilessly. Well, she supposed it wasn't quite… merciless, per say, since he had seemed to be shocked at his own actions. But he also told her that she had woken up screaming his name and basically thanking Merlin that he was alive.

So what if he said he loved her? He probably wouldn't mean it anyway. He probably said that to every girl that he either beat up or tried to have his way with. But he looked almost scared, like he had never even thought of saying that aloud to anyone, especially her. For a minute, she weighed her options.

Option One: Admit to him that she hasn't been able to stop thinking about him since a few weeks after the school year had started. Then she would face the inevitable humiliation, teasing and regret for the rest of the year after he told her that he was only kidding.

Option Two: Smack him upside the head and get him to start thinking like himself again.

Option Three: Cry.

Option Four: Continue staring at him in confusion until he wandered away in defeat.

"You what?" she finally said, deciding to go with Option 5: What the fuck?

Draco gazed back at her incredulously stare. He found himself holding his breath and let the air out slowly in a sigh. He didn't really know how to explain what he had said. He didn't even know why he said it. He just blurted it out suddenly. He closed his eyes and rubbed them with his index fingers.

"Nothing. Just forget it," he said, standing up from the seat that he had occupied for at leas the past twelve hours. He began to walk away but he was stopped by her weak voice coming quietly from behind him.

"Why?"

Standing there, Draco stared straight ahead of himself, her short but direct question sinking in. He could feel her chocolate eyes on his back. "It's nothing," he decided to say, and then started walking.

"Draco whatever-your-middle-name-is Malfoy! You turn around this instant, get your ass over here and tell me what the fuck you're talking about!" she insisted. Her voice was slightly more forceful than she had intended. That was fine. It signified that's he meant business. But when he turned around to look at her, the rigid form of his body brought her back to the night in the Head's Dorm… right in front of the fireplace where so many wonderful and horrific things had happened.

"Hermione," he started, walking back towards her, "you have been the only person that I've opened up to in, oh, I don't know, four years? You allowed me to take all of my frustration out in rants for the past four months, even though prior to that, I had done nothing but relentlessly torture you. But you just let all of that fall by the wayside and let me go off and blow off all of my steam. Why? Fuck if I know!" He was pacing now, back and forth, along the length of her bed.

"And then I couldn't take it anymore—all of the kindness, the sympathy, the general purity around you… And when I fully and completely tried to give myself over to you without having to say those damned three words… and you shot me down. Then I snapped when you just left me lying there on your bedroom floor. I couldn't stand it anymore. I was out for blood. Then I could not fucking control myself. You were driving me up the fucking wall and I took all of my anger and my frustration and all of my sexual tension that had built up out on your face and stomach without even realizing what I was doing. Without realizing that I was hurting you. You drive me fucking insane, Hermione Granger. And I have no idea why. I…" Draco began to stumble over his words.

"Draco…" she barely whispered; her breath was caught in her throat as he spoke and she could feel the tightening sensation in her chest as she held back tears.

He shot her a look signaling that he wasn't finished yet. She had her long insulting speech, so now it was his turn to give her a long and very over-due confession. He cleared his throat and mentally prepared himself to continue with the pouring out of his heart and soul.

"I'm not done yet." He stopped pacing and sat down on the bed opposite from hers. "I think it all started back in our third year… when you punched me." His hand subconsciously went to his cheek as he realized that he had hit her in the same place the she had punched him that day. "I'd never seen that fierce side of you. It obsessed me, but I didn't let anyone know. I always watched you, given the chance… in classes, during Quidditch games, at breakfast, lunch, dinner, assemblies, the Yule Ball…" He almost laughed at himself. "Hell, I almost asked you to the Yule Ball but that damned Krum got to you before I could. Everyone would've thought that I had gone mad, including you, and myself.

"But I decided not to let you get to me. I just stopped thinking about you. It was like I flipped the switch from 'on' to 'off.' But every time that I saw you, I was just filled with hatred and I wanted you to feel it, to know it. But you never let it get to you. And that just made everything worse. I had no way to get to you. I promised myself that I would do so, one way or another. It just looks like I chose to take the least expected path and then took a horribly wrong turn." He stopped again, collecting his thoughts and emotions.

"Basically, what I'm trying to say… is… is that…" Draco hesitated for a moment, allowing his crystal blue eyes to catch her cautious stare. "I guess… I think…" His tongue was stumbling over itself again and his mouth seemed to get drier and drier as the seconds passed between his words.

"Yes?" she asked; her voice was so soft, so quiet, that he wasn't even sure she had said anything at all.

Draco couldn't bring himself to say those words again, so he sighed and stood up, making his way over to her. To his surprised, she didn't flinch, hit him, hex him, curse him, or bite him or anything when he sat down beside her. "If you were ever in trouble and all of my limbs were broken and my toes were all in pieces, do you know what I would do?" he asked. Hermione just stared at him, hanging on his every word at that point. "I would drag myself 200 miles—or however many it would take to get to you—with just my fingernails."

She couldn't peel her shocked eyes away from him. She couldn't even make the attempt. Had he really just said all of that? Just admitted to all of that? To her? She felt her heart sink when she thought of all of the things that she had said and done to him in the past three and a half years when all that time, he had been fretting over her. "Draco, I… I had no idea that you felt like that… for so long. Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"Would you have taken me seriously?" he asked, looking away from her.

"Probably not," she admitted. "So why did you ask me that question earlier?" she added after a moment of silence.

He sat there for a minute, thinking, actually thinking, hard about how to answer her. Finally, he gave in to her emotions and looked towards her, his eyes betraying his collected attitude, the sign that he would break soon, and showed her a look of the more open and pure sincerity that even he had doubted he was capable of. "Because I think I do."

"You think you… what?" She refused to believe it until the words actually came out of his mouth. And not as a question.

"That I love you! I love you, Hermione Granger!" he said, standing up from his seat beside her and flailing his arms out to his sides as he proclaimed that his crazy obsession had turned into love. "Satisfied?" he asked, turning around again to look at her, his arms spread out to her, almost in a welcoming fashion.

She was staring at him with a small smirk on her lips until he had turned around like that. A memory, a painful one, shot through her mind, making her draw in a gasp as she watched him.

He frowned, but left his arms out just in case. She had her bloody confession, now where was his half-running, half-limping embrace? "Hermione?"

She let her captive breath free and blinked a few times and the image was gone. She tried to remember it, but she couldn't, not matter how hard she tried. She smiled up at him, ignoring her irritating subconscious. "Do you really mean it?" she asked warily.

He nodded, a smile creeping across his perfect lips. He watched her as she moved slowly to get off of the bed, but rushed to her side in order to avoid her looks of pain flashing across her face. She stared up at him as he held his arms out. "Well, hurry up," he said, motioning his hands slightly to encourage her into his embrace.

Hermione froze again, but only for a second. She had blinked too soon and the image that flashed behind her eyes and the memory of it were gone instantaneously. She fell gently into his arms and rested her cheek against his chest for a second before he looked down at her. He tenderly held her chin between his index finger and his thumb. Another memory. He pulled her lips to hers sweetly, gently. Another flash. What was going on?

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I just changed the last 2 paragraphs because I decided that I really didn't like them. Too fluffy. She was all "OH YAY! *hobble*" and it was too cheesy. And this ending at least gives me a little bit more room to work with. At least the way I'm seeing it. Hopefully, I'll be able to get an 8th chapter up here for you guys. In less than 2 years time. .


	8. I Hate Everything About You

After a long awaited 2 years… I have for you… Chapter 8. *nod But this chapter is shit. It's that crappy in-between chapter. And I had to finish it before going to work… so stfu. Just read it. I'll have chapter 9 soon enough. You can deal with ONE crappy chapter before another good one. You already had 7 good ones.

D/C: I don't own any of this glory except for Draco's rage… And other things too… but HP/Hogwarts… Well.. You all know this already. :D

P.S. Who can catch the AVPM/AVPS references?

* * *

A few days had passed and she was surrounded by things. Not specific things. Just… things. Notmeaningful things, special things, important things… Things.

A stack of books was seated neatly atop the night table beside her, but it wasn't a stack of books she wanted. Instead of her Ancient Runes, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Potions text book, she had a pile of books by authors that she barely knew. They were all assorted novels that Draco had brought her that he thought she may enjoy. She wasn't.

On the chair beside the table was a pile of candy. Chocolate frogs, Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans, and Pumpkin Pasties, none of which she wanted. None of which she even ate. That was more Ron's cup of tea. And Harry. There was some sort of chocolate covered… something. What? She had no idea.

On the other side of her bed, the night table contained a few more essential things: clothing, her wand, a glass of pumpkin juice and a glass of water. Beyond that, however, was a miniature Quidditch Pitch, fully equipped with fourteen players, fourteen brooms, and four balls. Oh, and a cheering crowd. Hermione knew why this was here. Draco would play out Quidditch plays to see how they would work against Gryffindor while she sat there pretending to be fully enthralled by one of the novels he had brought her.

She sighed, head lolling back onto the pillows behind her, holding a book lightly in her hand. She knew he would be coming to see her soon and that he would be upset had she not advanced further in "The Wizard's Pendulum." She assumed he stole this book from Pansy Parkinson, judging by the witch and wizard going at it on the cover. She'd flipped through a few pages and discovered that the reason the title was so horribly cliché was because this particular wizard, Alan, had an issue of the heart and was going back and forth between two witches, Gisella and Rachelle.

And, like clockwork, there he was. The door to the Hospital Wing flew open and his footsteps echoed through the otherwise empty room. She sat up quickly and opened the book to some random page. Alan was with Rachelle, working his magic. She rolled her eyes, but kept them on the page as Draco came around the curtain to her bed, a broad smile on his face.

"And how are we this morning?" he asked, cheerful, but calm.

Hermione pretended to be finishing a paragraph before she looked up at him. "Hmm?" she asked, blinking a few times.

"How are you?" he asked again, taking a seat beside the miniature Quidditch Pitch.

'_Great. An afternoon of Malfoy playing Quidditch. Again.'_ She folded the corner of the page she randomly picked and shut the book quietly. "Just fine. Much better. My insides no longer hurt." She hadn't said this in an attempt at making his feel bad, but she had done a good job.

Draco's eyes dropped to the floor immediately. He didn't say anything for a moment, and Hermione was quick to keep up the silence. She didn't particularly want him there.

Every day since the incident, as she liked to refer to it, Draco had spent almost the entire day at her bedside. And it bothered her. It made her feel like she was an actress up on stage. She supposed that that was what she was, really. He was waiting to see how it all turned out. Waiting to see how the scene ended each and every day. He didn't really know that he had an effect on that ending, though.

Ever since the night that he had put her where she is, ever since the night that he said that he… She couldn't even think the words to herself. She pushed away the mental replay of that night. He hadn't said it again, but each night that passed, slowly, he lingered for a few moments longer, staring at her as if he had something else to say. She refused to say it back to him. It was asinine, insane, and downright wrong. It wasn't even a concept that she could wrap her brain around. And she wasn't about to try and do so, either. She'd get an instant headache.

"I think I'm going to go. I just wanted to see how you were, Granger." Draco stood from his place, having only sat there a moment, and turned his back. "See you later," he added, not waiting for her protest or her call for his return. She watched as he retreated, slightly puzzled at his behavior.

* * *

Draco moved at a quick pace through the school, determined to put as much distance between the two of them as he possibly could. He had been so happy to go see her, but she remained just as quiet, not even attempting to break the awkward silence that she had created. Well, really, he had created it, but he wouldn't admit that. He made a quick turn up another flight of stairs and down a hall to their dorm where he grabbed a winter cloak. He needed to get out. Get some air. Maybe he'd slip off to Hogsmeade and have a drink.

Yes. That was what he would do. Surely that would take his mind off of Granger.

* * *

She had been alone for just over an hour before Madame Pomfrey came bustling into the room. Harmione had actually been sitting there reading "The Wizard's Pendulum" and had been slightly caught off guard when the older witch appeared at her bedside.

"Miss Granger," she greeted, and Hermione nodded in response. "You are free to go."

Hermione sat there for a moment, not particularly wanting to be free to go. She wanted to stay there and only have to endure a few hours of dealing with Draco's stares and bad attempts at small talk. Not to mention that she was sure there would be some conversation about what he said after… the incident.

Nodding once again, she threw the blankets off and was hit with the sudden shock of cold air. She stood shakily and dressed slowly, again trying to prolong her time away from her common room. She wasn't really sure what to do with any of the piles of… stuff that had accumulated, but none of it was hers. She glanced around, pocketed her wand, and left, thanking the medi-witch for all of her troubles as she walked through the doors.

For a moment, she just stood there, looking down the hall, observing the portraits on the walls, the staircase as it decided to move a bit, the ghosts floating through the walls and waving towards her. She didn't know where to go or what to do, but a rumble in her stomach told her that she was still hungry and the Great Hall would be a wonderful place to visit for lunch. With a small nod to herself, she took off at a slow pace and took the numerous flights of stairs to the entrance hall.

She took a deep breath before heading through the doors and towards the Gryffindor table. Her eyes stayed glued to the seat she was headed for and ensuring herself that she would NOT look towards the Slytherin table for the blond hair she was growing used to seeing. After greeting the few other Gryffindor students around her that had stayed at the school for the holidays, Hermione Granger took a seat with their small group. She couldn't help but feel at home with them, but she had no idea what to sa when they all asked her the inevitable question.

And then it came.

"Where have you been for the last few days, Hermione?" Seamus Finnigan asked, food practically falling out of his mouth as he leaned over to look at her.

Hermione quickly stuffed a forkful of potato salad into her mouth and held up a finger to tell her friends, all of their eyes on her, to just hold on one second. After all, Hermione wasn't going to speak with her food in her mouth. But the food only lasts so long. She swallowed slowly.

"I've been studying. And doing homework. Most of my meals, I've just been getting from the kitchens," she said, hoping that her voice was convincing enough for them. The older students would know better, but the younger ones quickly stopped any attempt they made at calling her bluff.

"You know how to get into the kitchens?" a young boy asked. Hermione didn't even k now what year he was, but she assumed first, since she didn't really know him.

She just nodded and stuffed more potato salad into her mouth. The young wizard continued to ask her questions about the kitchens and house elves, after which Hermione swallowed too much un-chewed food, choked, and then went on a rant about the rights of the unpaid elves. This caused the effect she had desired originally of the older students going back into their conversations about Quidditch and those cute Ravenclaw girls at the other table.

* * *

A few hours had gone by and Draco was noticeably tipsy when he returned to Hogwarts. He would skip dinner and go straight back to his common room to avoid any humiliation. After eight glasses of firewhisky, he had lost count, but continued to drown himself in the amber liquid anyway. On his walk home, he had only lost his footing twice, but by the time he had regained it, he had already forgotten about it. He had also only slammed into about fifteen people. His mind seemed to be elsewhere.

Where it was, he wasn't exactly happy about. His thoughts were on one particular little Gryffindor: the girl who had angered him for so long, but he had grown so accustomed to being around…. That Hermione Granger. He could draw out a clear picture of her in his mind, even in the sorry state that he currently found himself in. He wanted to go see her. But he couldn't let her see him like this. He would just return to his common room, sleep off that alcohol, and then see her in the morning.

* * *

The fire crackled warmly in the fireplace as Hermione entered the dorms that she hadn't seem for almost a week. The flames roared to life, inviting her to take a seat and have a good read. A quick glance around told her that she was alone, mostly because she noticed that Draco's winter cloak was not in its usual place hanging by the portrait hole. She took a seat and picked up a book that she would actually enjoy reading, verses the ones that had been left with her in the hospital wing. She snuggled in, losing herself in Ancient Runes.

It was only about a half hour after she had settled herself that a thump against the portrait outside of her dorm had made her alert once again. She stared into the entry way for a moment before she heard it again. Cocking an eyebrow, she set her book to the side and cautiously made her way to the doorway, wand at the ready in her hand. She pushed on it lightly and it cracked open, revealing a very drunken Draco Malfoy who had been unable to get back into the common room.

Without warning, the git fell right into her arms. Hermione barely caught him, but as she did her insides roared with pain. Apparently, she was only okay when her body wasn't stressed. She let out a small yelp and squeezed her eyes shut as she let her body relax enough to stop hurting.

"Malfoy! What in Merlin's name do you think you're doing?" she asked through clenched teeth as she drug his half limp body through the doorway.

"Hermonnninnee… Hermmminnie!" Draco exclaimed, suddenly alert, as he pushed himself away from her. "Don tush me!" he added as he stumbled backwards into the wall.

Eyebrow back to raised position, Hermione backed away, hands held in front of her as if her were a wild beast. She was hit with a wave of firewhisky on his breath. "Merlin, how much have you had to drink?" she asked, waving a hand in front of her face to clear the air.

"Not uhnuff!" he proclaimed, holding a hand up into the air, index finger pointing to the left.

Hermione rested her forehead in her palm and sighed before she shook her head and walked away. Somehow, Draco managed to follow her to the sofa and take the seat beside her at an awkwardly close proximity.

"You know Hermmoninnie? You are jus' soooo nice to me!" He smiled up at her, so drunk that his eyes were crossing at strange angles. "I love you!" he added, leaning against her.

Hermione took a moment of silence as she thought of something intellectual to say, but when she finally decided that trying to rationalize with a drunken idiot was pointless, he was already asleep on her shoulder. She sat there for a few seconds before she stood up, watching him fall lifelessly onto the couch. "I hate everything about you," she whispered as she began to walk away. But her mind was telling her that she didn't. Her mind was telling her that she in fact felt the complete opposite. She loved him.


End file.
